


Flight

by i_claudia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-13
Updated: 2007-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-18 11:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_claudia/pseuds/i_claudia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry races through the sky as rain splatters on his glasses, making it impossible to see more than vague grey shapes as the forest rushes along beneath him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ [here](http://i-claudia.livejournal.com/907.html). (13 September 2007)

1.  
Harry races through the sky as rain splatters on his glasses, making it impossible to see more than vague grey shapes as the forest rushes along beneath him. Merlin, he loves this feeling, this freedom to just go and go forever. He doesn’t have to worry about saving the world; he can leave everyone far behind. They can’t find him here. On his broomstick, he can believe that he is invincible.

He glances to his right for a split second, just long enough to check that—yes; that flash of blonde is still speeding along beside him.

“Give up yet, Potter?”

“You wish, Malfoy!”

***

2.  
Leaning low over his Firebolt, he begins slowly pulling in front of Malfoy, gaining the lead.

“Oh, hell no, Potter,” Malfoy yells across to him, speeding up in turn, but the damage is done. Harry crashes onto the pitch moments before Malfoy, and throws up his fist in triumph. For a moment, they both lie still and pant, catching their breath. Then Harry rolls over, looking at Malfoy with a grin.

“Told you I could still beat you hollow.”

Malfoy scoffs. “You cheated, Potter.”

“I did not!” Harry says, indignant. “You’re the one who always cheats!”

***

3.  
“I’m a Slytherin. It’s what we do.” Malfoy points an accusing finger. “I can tell when someone cheats, and you just did. This doesn’t count.”

“Oh, that’s rich,” Harry snorts. “Does it only count if you win?”

Malfoy gives a slow smile. A part of Harry’s mind he hadn’t known existed gibbers madly. He doesn’t know why Malfoy makes him so flustered—he doesn’t think he wants to know. 

“Of course.”

Harry makes an exasperated noise and flops down onto his back. Of all the self-satisfied bastards…

Malfoy’s face comes into view above him.

“Potter.”

Harry quirks an eyebrow in question.

“If I admit defeat, do I get my wish?”

“Wish? What wish?” Harry wonders if Malfoy has gone quietly mad while he wasn’t watching. 

***

4.  
"You said, 'You wish'. So, I want my wish."

Malfoy is still watching him, which makes him feel peculiarly exposed. He know Malfoy will stick stubbornly to this thought for as long as it takes. Harry regards him suspiciously for a moment. “You’ll admit I won fairly?”

The corner of Malfoy’s mouth pulls up in a half smile. It is not a comforting smile. “I will.”

Harry holds out for a moment more before he gives in. “Fine. It had better not be anything ridiculous. What do you want?”

Malfoy, water dripping from his nose onto Harry’s, has an inscrutable look on his face. It makes Harry uneasy. “Malfoy?”

Malfoy speaks quietly, making Harry shiver. “All I want is… this.”

***

5.

Harry’s mind feels permanently scrambled. Malfoy. Lips. Touching. He is about to tear himself away, to demand to know exactly what Malfoy thinks he’s doing. But then Malfoy does something with his mouth that really... really should be illegal, Harry thinks distractedly; and then he is drowning in Malfoy, in his smell and taste and presence and he cannot save himself.

Malfoy pulls back, and suddenly the pieces Harry’s been trying to fit together the wrong way around make sense.

He clears his throat, feebly trying to arrange his scattered brain into something that approximates coherent thought.

***

6.  
As he pieces himself back together, Harry realizes that Malfoy is still beside him, tense, ready to bolt at his slightest movement. He reaches out and carefully runs his fingers through Malfoy’s hair. He knows what to say now.

“And now,” he whispers, “I get to pick what I want for a victory prize.” He twists his hand and brings the other boy’s face down to his own again. Malfoy’s mouth curves in a smile before opening once more, and Harry feels himself dissolve into that smile, happily drowning.


End file.
